


Just this

by oxiosa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Latin Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxiosa/pseuds/oxiosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martín is not stupid, nor as half as egocentric as everyone thinks he is. He knows he is not the only one having a hard time these days. He knows Luciano himself is as stressed, and that not going back to Brazil was a way of improvising some mini-vacations in Buenos Aires to stay out of daily life's problems just for another day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just this

When Martín opens the door of his apartment, a cold evening in still early winter, the last thing he expects to greet him is a wave of blazing hot air hitting him straight in the face - and yet that's exactly what happens. Martín blinks as his freezing skin meets sudden warmness, and when he hears some Portuguese singing along the blasting stereo, he remember about certain Brazilian staying at his places and realised he shouldn't be surprise at all.

Luciano sits comfortably at his couch with both his feet resting up the coffee table while some song Martín doesn't recognise plays on the stereo, singing to himself while he watches TV. He turns to Martín when he hears the front door closing, and smiles widely.

" _Bem-vindo à casa!_ " he calls and throws his hands in the air like he owns the place.

Luciano came to Buenos Aires for a serious business meeting, and was supposed to take a flight back to Brazil the morning of that very same day, but missed the flight - he didn't even showed up in all honesty. Instead, he simply called work excusing himself and promised to take the first flight the following morning. It costed him a scolding, but Luciano, like he does with most things, laughed it off with a shrug.

"I don't feel like going back just yet," he admitted to Martín with a shameless smile.

Which is fine with Martín - it's not like he's the one getting in trouble for missing work once he gets back home.

"It's too hot in here," Martín complains as he starts to undress from his numerous thick layers of clothing.

"You're welcome," Luciano smiles and puffs his chest proudly.

Martín is too tired to even drag himself across the room to lower the heat, and anyways doing so would mean to fight with Luciano over it - and while Martín is quite fond of fighting Luciano, today he doesn't feel like it; his back is killing him, so is his neck and his head. So says nothing beyond that, and kicks his shoes off and drops his scarf and coat and suit's jacket as he walks to the couch. He unceremoniously drops himself across the couch and over Luciano's legs. Luciano pats him on the back of his thigh, and leaves his hand there.

"Visited Heloísa today," Luciano comments absently. "She cooked _vatapá_ and _acarajé_ for us. It's really good."

Heloísa is a Brazilian old lady that lives in the floor below. She came to Buenos Aires following after her Horacio, an Argentinean man with whom she started a family. Widowed and almost blind now, she hasn't gone back to Brazil since she left all those years ago as a young girl looking for the – as she even nowadays puts it – love of her life, and would most likely die without seeing her homeland ever again. She treats Martín with special kindness, confessing he reminds her of her deceased husband, but has a special love for Luciano, who also reminds her of a long lost love, her home. His warm eyes, bright smiles and lively Portuguese bring a small relief to her long home-sick heart. Whenever Luciano visits Martín, he always makes time to pay her a visit too. Luciano brings her news and memories from home, and she in return usually pampers and cooks him all sort of Brazilian dishes.

"That's nice of her," Martín says quietly.

Luciano hums in agreement and gives Martín's thigh a little squeeze. He starts talking quietly, telling Martín about his day. Martín barely hears a word; he listens, but most of Luciano's words get lost in the fogginess numbing his tired mind.

"What about you?" Luciano asks after ranting for some long minutes. "How was your day?"

"Awful," Martín grunts. "My head might as well explode and my back is killing me."

Another gentle squeeze at his thigh.

"Well..." Luciano replies slowly. "One of those two we can fix."

Before Martín can ask what he means, Luciano is squirming under him, pushing Martín limp body spawned across the couch off him.

"What are your doing?" Martín complains. "You're gonna push me off the couch!"

Somehow, Luciano does not. He manages to extract himself from under Martín and climb over him only stepping over Martín and earning himself a curse once. Without a word or hesitation, Luciano straddles the back his thighs and sits over him like he has all the right in the world to do so. Martín was not born yesterday and knows where Luciano on top of him and in close proximity to his butt leads. He is not sure why Luciano got the impression that this is what Martín needs or would even want at the moment.

"What the f-?"

"The shirt," Luciano cuts him. "Off."

"Call me old-fashioned," Martín huffs impatiently. "But I usually like a little foreplay..."

" _Off_ ," Luciano repeats with a roll of his eyes, Martín is sure.

Martín groans in complain; he doesn't feel like moving at all. Somehow, they both tug and pull and manage to get Martín's shirt out of the way and to the floor. Martín lays on his stomach on the couch, upper half of his body naked while Luciano sits over the back of his thighs. Luciano's hands, open firm palm, set over Martín's lower back and slowly work their way up. Martín tenses just slightly and catches his breath in a quiet sigh.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you?" he asks quietly and hopefully teasingly.

" _Please_ ," Luciano snorts with amusement. "Don't act like _you_ 're the one making me a favour."

"Didn't hear you complaining."

"Am not," Martín can hear the fond smile on his voice.

Luciano works quietly and patiently, nimble fingers rubbing tired muscles.

"Bad day, uh?" Luciano comments casually.

"Try years."

Luciano huffs a sympathetic little laugh through his nose. He gently presses and circles his thumbs at the base of Martín's neck, easing stiff muscles.

"This would be easier if we went to bed," Luciano mumbles, mostly to himself.

"Is that your best pick-up line?" Martín can't help a tired smirk.

Luciano laughs.

"You know it's not," he replies shamelessly.

A smile curves Martín's lips - of course he knows. He opens his mouth to reply, but Luciano's fingers find a tight knock of taut nerves, and he only gets to groan in surprise and pain.

"Oh, found a big one," Luciano sounds almost triumphant, and presses harder.

Martín hisses a curse this time as pain, sharp and white, explodes at the back of his neck and eyes.

"Fuck, Luciano, be careful," he grunts angrily and glares at him over his shoulder.

Luciano laughs and mumbles something that Martín doesn't catch and that might not had been Spanish all together, but his touch becomes gentler. It still hurts, but Martín can actually feel Luciano easing the tension on his back. Eventually, Martín starts to relax below his fingertips. Luciano's familiar weight grounding him down and the feeling of exposed bare skin against smooth open hands are enough to draw Martín's interest. Now that his sore muscles are not demanding attention, he can enjoy the intimate pleasure of firm lingering touches that make him want to press back into Luciano and yet doesn't quite meet arousal.

"Better?" Luciano offers quietly.

Martín lets out a deep sigh.

"Yes..." he breathes out.

Now that the stiffness is mostly gone, Martín can feel heavy limpness take over his tired body. He's had a long day, and even if he's aching for a hot shower and a nice meal, all he wants to do is melt between Luciano's warm bodyweight and the soft cushions of his couch.  
It feels almost unfair how he's neglected Luciano the whole day; this was not what Luciano must have bargained for when he decided to stay.

"You know," he clears his throat, and tries to sound a little more awake than he actually feels. "It's still early. We can go watch a movie, get something to eat..."

"Nah, it's fine," Martín can feel Luciano shrug it off as he slides his hands to Martín's lower back again. "You're tired, you gotta work tomorrow and I gotta catch a flight back home."

"It's no big deal," Martín says and tries rise on his forearms without much success; there is little room to move on his narrow couch with Luciano's weight grounding him. "I can take it..."

"I know you can," Luciano replies. "But it's cold outside, and we have Heloísa's _vatapá_ , so how about we stay inside?"

"I'm sorry," he says, sounding a little like a pouting child. "I know this is not what you had in mind for tonight when you decided to stay..."

Martín is not stupid, nor as half as egocentric as everyone thinks he is. He knows he is not the only one having a hard time these days. He knows Luciano himself is as stressed, and that not going back to Brazil was a way of improvising some mini-vacations in Buenos Aires to stay out of daily life's problems just for another day. Luciano, who decided to stay another day and bare the promise of a scolding from his boss to clear his head from work and problems, had to stay babysit Martín.

"Your back must be hurting more that I thought to get you to apologize..."

Martín glares and frowns over his shoulder, and Luciano smiles lazily at him as his hands go all the way up to curl around Martín's shoulders. Luciano leans forward and places a gentle kiss between Martín's shoulder blades, and Martín's breath stops.

"Is it hard to believe that I may enjoy this, Martín?" Luciano asks quietly and rests his head on Martín's spine.

He lets his hands – open warm palms and gentle skimming fingertips – trace Martín's back in a firm motion. Martín blushes and shudders as Luciano leans over him and makes his way to his neck, flush lips mouthing sensitive skin and warm hands sliding between Martín's body and the couch to curl around him and pull them both as close together as possible. Martín sighs and closes his eyes – and he really might melt right here right now.

"Maybe I don't want to go out..." Luciano says, his voice barely a whisper against Martín's neck. "Maybe I just want this. Maybe I just want you."

Martín can feel warm spreading across his face and setting in his belly, and has to bite his lip and close his eyes. A light groan escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses his face against the cushion, suddenly feeling suddenly naked.

They remain like that for a moment, beating hearts and warm bodies as close as posible. Martín sighs content, and can feel himself drifting into unconciousness until Luciano kisses the side of Martín's temples and then he's gone. Martín blinks his eyes open, too cheated with Luciano's sudden departure to even complain.

"Come on, falling asleep on the couch won't do any good to your back," Luciano says and pants his side. "Go take a shower, then we can eat Heloísa's food and go sleep like you desperately need."

The promise of a shower, clean soft pyjamas and a hot meal drag Martín out of the couch with a pleased groan. Luciano laughs at him again, all white teeth and bright eyes.

"Told you," he says. "My pick-up lines always work."

Martín has strength only to let out a soft chuckle, and press a gentle kiss to Luciano's smiley mouth. He feels light and wobbly and warm, and he knows that while Luciano is full responsible, his massage is half the reason.

**Author's Note:**

> ~Happy ~~belated~~ Birthday to Zu who wanted a little bit of fluffly sweet brarg~


End file.
